


Vonya and Victory

by AphroditeB00w, story_weaver



Category: Greek Mythology, Norse Mythology, Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime), hindu pantheon
Genre: Fanfic for a fanfic, Pre-Otabek, vonya’s past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-08 01:51:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14094426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AphroditeB00w/pseuds/AphroditeB00w, https://archiveofourown.org/users/story_weaver/pseuds/story_weaver
Summary: Vonya meets the other victories





	Vonya and Victory

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AphroditeB00w](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AphroditeB00w/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Five Lords](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12190848) by [AphroditeB00w](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AphroditeB00w/pseuds/AphroditeB00w), [Storylover](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Storylover/pseuds/Storylover). 



> This is a piece inspired by The Five Lords by AphroditeB00w which you should totally read!

“Now what?” Korravai growled, her golden skin gleaming in the sun streaming through the windows of the ski resort. Well above where most mortals would venture or even look.

“Don’t look at me! I haven’t been summoned since the Christianization of Europe.” Hede reclined in an overstuffed chair, sipping warm cider, that was mostly alcohol but who cared?

In an apparition Athena walked in, smelling of olive branches and the sea-salt air of the Aegean. “Who made a sacrifice to me?”

“We have the same question. But in the meantime, have a seat.” Hede had set her weapons at the door, she didn’t think they’d be needed. Athena’s shoulders tensed as she looked around, there was no high ground, no hiding places, no room for a battle plan.

“Ah, shit!” In another flash of light someone else appeared. A young woman, with eyes tired beyond her years and a bowl that had freshly tipped, spilling acid onto the floor. “Wha’s this?”

“Switzerland, Darling.”

“Wha’ for?” Sigyn stood up, her lavender dress had seen better days, the hem was tattered beyond repair, and there were holes throughout burnt into it from the acid. Her short mop of curls bounced as she wiped up the floor with her apron and wringing it back into the bowl.

“If we knew we’d tell you.” Korravai bit out.

“Didn’ realize I was imposin’,” Sigyn muttered.

The doors swung open. A tall, lean blonde stepped through, he lacked armor, standing only in a green wool uniform, and leather boots, an officer’s hat was tucked under his arm.

“Where the fuck have you all been?”

“Better question,” Athena sat in a chair as though it were a throne. “Who are you?”

“Vonya.” The blonde ground out.

“Vonya?” Sigyn laughed and tugged his braid. “The Vonya I knew was a surly old fuck from the Roman legions. Since when is your station worth an ounce of beauty?” She strolled over to the chaise lounge and preened.

“There’s been a war?”

“So?” Came the reply from three of the ladies.

“What do you mean ‘so’?” Vonya roared. “There are twenty million people dead! Don’t you care?!”

“Why should I? They removed my name from common talk.” Hede scoffed.

“I’m mentioned twice in the prose.”

“They desecrated my temple and stopped sacrificing to me.” Athena’s indignant tone rang out.

“I may only go as far as the Tigris River.”

“Twenty million people,” Vonya summoned a table for them to sit around.

“Who did not evoke our names,” Hede nodded. “Who have decided that some of us aren’t needed.”

“I don’t think he understands,” Sigyn began. “How long have you been in this position?”

“Long enough.” Vonya sat down in a huff.

“Clearly not,” scoffed Korravai, taking her place opposite the young lord.

“Play nice, you remember the last Vonya? At least this one has a sense of decorum, unlike that Roman savage.”

“Some decorum,” Athena rolled her eyes making Sigyn sigh.

“Vonya, you are an embodiment who does not need to be evoked through ritual if a large enough war presents itself. Your name only needs called in smaller cases, an individual soldier perhaps. We, are beings beyond that. We need to be called by alters, sacrifice, and prayer. You gather worship by existing. We gather it by mortals calling out. We cannot step in unless evoked, and our followers were purged by mortal powers. We are no longer called out to in the old ways. The mortals decided that war is needed but we,” Sigyn motioned around to the other women. “Are not.”

“Speak for yourself, Viking girl, I still have my followers and sacrifices,” Korravai spat before standing up and leaving. Athena and Hede followed, both muttering about this not involving them. Vonya sat boring a hole into the table with his eyes.

“They were kids,” Vonya whispered. “They were kids in trenches.”

“Hm, that’s what’s hard. Seeing soldiers marching knowing they have seen too few winters.” Sigyn nodded, “They were always so excited to join their fathers on the ships, to put their shields on the sides and take their place.”

“Is there no other way?”

“Hm, my name might mean ‘victorious girlfriend’ but you should have called upon someone else in my pantheon for this discussion,” Sigyn started to stand.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“You must gather worship somehow or you’ll fade too. If not war, then how?” Sigyn stood, her bowl in hand, before leaving Vonya to the silence of the mountains.

***************

A few days later he found himself on the steps of the Parthenon, it’s ruins towering over him and Sigyn’s words were still rolling around in his head. He kept wondering if letting Vonya fade would be such a bad thing but he knew mortals would never let that happen, new weapons would be developed, new world powers would fall to their own hubris. He finally climbed up the last step and stood before the dias where the statue used to stand.

“Athena says to call on Ares for questions of war,” the man behind him wore something like a toga with a winged helmet and wings on his shoes.

“Well I came here for advice, that falls under wisdom right?” Vonya spat. Hermes shrugged and was gone in a flash. A throne appeared on the dias with Athena sitting regally upon it.   
  
“Speak, little lord.”

“How do I exist without the carnage that war brings?”

“You know,” Athena began. “I remember with the Roman chose you, he wouldn’t stop crowing about how he trapped some little dancer into being his replacement. He said that three hundred years under the mantel might be enough to make you a man. I had problems with him then, a dancer with that love of stage and willing to go through that much pain needs no mantel.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Where is the passion and pain of war felt that isn’t a battlefield?” Athena’s bored tone conveying her desire to leave. “I have known many warriors, and during times of peace they sought honor in the shadow of Mount Olympus.”

“Just warriors?”

“Warriors take many forms.” Athena faded leaving only the throne in her wake. Soon it would dissolve too, leaving Vonya alone with his thoughts. Something had to give, and he also knew that wars didn’t just appease him. They sustained nearly all of the lords, what could replace something so… disgustingly vital? 


End file.
